


to the up and right

by Anemoi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:32:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anemoi/pseuds/Anemoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco <i> really </i> wants to drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to the up and right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imkerin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imkerin/gifts).



> cries lmao. ily mate, sorry it's short and 90% dialogue, this is my attempt at happiness. reparations for the tears before <33  
> ps. before i forget i dont condone any of the unsafe driving practices detailed below.

 

 

“No.” 

“Please.” Marco tries to make his eyes even bigger, blinks slowly, puts a tiny downward tilt on his mouth. It’s hard to do without looking like a sturgeon, so maybe he practiced that morning in front of the mirror. “Auba. Aubameyang. Please.”

“I said no.”

“But _why_.” Marco throws up his arms and flops on to the couch, sulking. His hair drooped. Nothing in this life was going to go his way. Not his hair, not Auba-

“Because it’s dangerous, Reus. I thought you were going to get driving lessons.” 

“We had training. I don’t have time.” Marco says, flinging an arm over his eyes. His voice wavers despondently. “I just. I miss driving.” Marco thinks about throwing in a sob but decides not to overdo it. There’s a silence as Auba shuffles over and sits down beside him. Marco moves his legs. 

The silence stretches on, Marco forcing himself to not peek at Auba from under his arm. 

   “Fine. Fine I’ll let you drive-“ 

   Marco yells and sits up, throwing his arms around Auba. 

  “-but only when and where I say.” 

   Marco mumbles something in to Auba’s neck. 

   “What?”

  “I said you’re the best.” 

  “It didn’t sound like you’re the best. I mean, I think it sounded like I l-“ 

   Marco raises his head very quickly, face pink, and hurriedly kisses Auba silent. Auba laughs in to his mouth, hands warm around Marco’s waist. 

 

-

 

“Ok. It was.” 

“Was what?”

“I love you.” 

Auba kisses the part of Marco that was closest to him, which turned out to be his ribs. Marco laughs and curls away, dropping a hand on Auba’s shoulder, rubbing absent circles. 

“You keep saying that but-“

“What?” Marco’s voice goes up in an indignant squawk. 

“I’m just saying all these I-love-you’s don’t translate in to action, you know?”

Marco rolls his eyes. “Shut up and I’ll blow you.” 

Auba tips his head and grins at him slowly, upside down. 

 

-

 

“How fast does it go?” Marco says, hands tight around the steering wheel and eyes bright. 

“Pretty fast.” Auba says, slightly reluctantly. They’re still parked by the side of the road, but Auba’s already buckled in cautiously. His face looked like the face of a man who’s realized he has let a small child in to a candy store. A small child with a taste for danger.  

“Do you want to find out?” Marco says, turning his head. 

“No. Marco.”

Marco rolls his eyes. “Its’s 3 am and this road is so empty I can see another car coming from miles away. Please relax.” 

“I can’t relax.” 

“I’m a great driver.” 

Auba lets this pass without comment, choosing to let Marco marinate in the irony of his statement. 

“Ready?” Marco asks. He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel, grinning his lopsided grin, and Auba’s heart does a weird double flip. 

Auba nods. Marco puts his foot down on the pedal. The wind pours in from the open top and drowns out their voices, but Auba still reaches out when the dial hits 200 and tangles their fingers together on the stick shift. 

  Marco glances at him, still smiling so wide, hair blowing every which way. There’s nothing but the open road before them, and Auba feels-

 

-

 

“Slow down.” 

“Wait why?” Marco manages to sound both hurt and petulant. 

“Just slow down a bit.” Auba says, reaching across. 

"Why?"

 “Because I can’t give you a fucking hand job when we’re going 200.” 

 Marco slows down. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
